


separation between silences

by Skyepilot



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: F/M, First Time, Friends to Lovers, Friendship/Love, Future Fic, Hair, Implied Sexual Content, Kissing, Sappy, Separations, Sleeping Together, Touching
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-29
Updated: 2016-01-29
Packaged: 2018-05-17 02:30:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,233
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5850436
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skyepilot/pseuds/Skyepilot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>skoulsonfest2k16 - DAY 6 · 23 January - previous Fest prompts: 'Increasing levels of support’</p><p>Drabblefic. Coulson and Daisy reconnect and play with each other's hair.</p>
            </blockquote>





	separation between silences

The first thing he notices after-after they have tangled their limbs and mouths and senses in a furor that is so familiar and startling at the same time-is that he can't stop touching her hair.   
  
He brushes his hand again through the strands, till he reaches the lighter ends. Shorter than when they first met, longer than when they were last forced apart.  
  
And they _were_ forced, although, he made it easier for her to walk. He knows that, lost in his worst self since before he died.

He never wanted to be a burden to her.  Or get in her way.

It wasn't the first time this has happened.  He’s sure it won’t be the last, between brushes with death and divisions and seeming acts of Fate that will still make him shiver if he dwells on them too long.

Instead, he pushes _that_ down, away somewhere else inside of himself, instead of _this_.

Faith. 

That’s what has always brought them back together.  It’s why she’s sleeping beside him now, exhausted from using her powers.  He could’ve insisted that she rest, once they were in the safehouse.

Not even SHIELD knows about it.  He still has a few secrets of his own left.

His fingers push her hair around the outer circle of her ear, and she stirs a little and raises her shoulder involuntarily. 

She had other ideas, and deep down he knows he could never dissuade her when she wanted something. 

It just turned out, unexpectedly, that it was him.

More than as an ally, or even a friend.  For all his attempts to try to cover her back when everything turned against her and her people, he doesn’t think he even got ‘friend’ right.

Too busy trying to be Director and use whatever influence or leverage to protect her.  This is another thing he’ll have to re-evaluate as well, despite the fact that she’s willing to overlook these particular flaws.

She needed a friend more than she needed a Director. 

A piece of hair falls against her forehead with his movements, and her brow furrows as he pushes it back from her face.

Yes, he’s being a pest.  He should let her rest.

And he wonders at why he’s not exhausted. He should be.  It’s been at least 18 hours, and he didn’t sleep at all for days before. Not really.

Longer than that, even.  He hasn’t slept soundly in a very long time.

It’s just…this is the first he’s seen her in so long.  Touched her like this.

When she cut her hair, he knew. But then she changed her name and it drove the point home.  That this part of herself found was important, to be held onto and not hidden at all.

Her boldness, her sense of knowing instinctively what is hers even if she doesn’t hold it yet all the way?

God, he loves that about her.

She was right.  She _is_ both things.  Made a way for herself, even though they tried to pull her in two directions.

He wants to kiss her bare shoulder and hesitates. He wonders when she wakes up, if they’ll miss each other again, somehow.

He doesn’t ever want to again, and she’s so beautiful, it’s like someone is squeezing his heart inside his chest.

Instead, he takes his hand away, and leans down against the pillow, eyes on her until they’re so heavy he falls asleep.

 

 

She keeps her eyes closed for a moment, after she wakes.  Listening.  Feeling.

Coulson’s steady breathing.  Still nearby.  There’s nothing startling at all, just a pleasant humming rhythm all around her.

His face is the first thing that she sees, even with the room dimly lit, but she can still make him out, snuggled against the pillow like he wants to bury himself in it.

She smiles and tries not to laugh, afraid she’d wake him.

More light would be nice, since she’s never seen him like this before.  This close or intimately.

When she kissed him, she half expected him to push her away and give her a Director-Mode speech.

He was shocked, obviously. Possibly shocked enough to kiss her back? 

They could've said a lot of stuff, instead of ripping each other's clothes off and almost falling off the bed trying to get more of each other.

It kind of makes sense, though. That's what she's going with for the moment.

They always understood each other, weirdly intuitive, and then they got far enough apart to lose that, too.

This was easier, for some reason, like a shortcut, even though it would’ve seemed impossible to her even days ago.

His hair is standing up against his head, and she wrestles her hand out from under the covers and then reaches forward to smooth it down.

He makes a tiny noise and it sounds content.  It could be because the corner of his mouth pulls up a little.

She does it again, but touches her fingers to his temple first, where she knows there’s more grey hair (probably because of her).

Everything is so uncertain right now.  Even this.  But she knows.

Safe.

He’s always made her feel that way, even with chaos all around them.  No one has ever made her feel more loved than him.

There are people that have wanted her and needed her, and not always for great reasons, and other times just because they wanted to recapture some past or better version of themselves, but it wasn’t really about her.

They wanted to change her, but he’s never wanted that.

Just her.  Now.  Tomorrow.  Whoever she becomes.

This isn’t new, but it is.

And he’s gonna wake up and they’ll have to talk about it all, of course.  Backtrack.  Be more sensible, because of the situation and the possible consequences to them both.

Whatever.  Not right now.

Right now, he looks so sweet while she twirls a piece of his hair around a finger.

 

 

“Hey.”

“Hi.”

They look up at each other and neither is sure who did first, or if they did at the same time.

Sleepy and just morning awake, both trying to not look too startled at the suddenness of it.

He purses his lips like he’s thinking about something serious, as she takes a deep breath, giving a thin smile to make it seem easier for them both to get this over with.

Then he reaches out his hand, and smooths his fingers through her hair, looking at her quietly, without saying a word.

She lets out her breath and stretches her hand until it meets his chest, over the scar on it, as he presses fingertips against her scalp, and she closes her eyes and smiles.

Wider, this time.

His hand makes its way to the nape of her neck, then pushes her hair up to get his hands beneath it, and she relaxes, humming against the buzz it’s giving her.

Sliding her fingers down his chest, beneath the sheets separating them, she hesitates for just a moment over the trail of hair starting at his belly button.  Until he leans forward and softly kisses her neck, his stubble scratching against it as his jaw works, and she moans.

“Good morning, Phil,” she manages to eke out, as her hand moves further and finds him already hard, pressing back against her palm.

“Good morning, Daisy,” he smiles against her jaw.


End file.
